I knocked on the door, and I could hear Tripp’s footsteps as he came down the hall. When the door swung open, the sight of him caught me a little off-balance. Sometimes I forgot just how sexy the man was until he was there in my space again. No wonder my sixteen-year-old heart had been stolen by him.
His hair was damp, and I could smell the fresh soap on his skin. A gray T-shirt clung to his chest in a few places where he hadn’t completely dried off before pulling it on. The jeans he was wearing hit his hips so perfectly I was sure they had been made just for him, so that women everywhere could lust over the way his flat stomach rippled and cut into a V as it disappeared into the denim. The jeans also did wonderful things to his long legs. The muscles in his thighs flexed easily as he shifted his stance. Then there were his tanned bare feet, which shouldn’t have been a turn-on but totally were.
I snapped my gaze back up to meet his after openly ogling him at his front door. I was thankful that he wasn’t smirking at my lapse. He grinned and stepped back for me to enter. “Just now pouring the wine,” he said as I walked in, his clean scent meeting my nose.
Why did that make me want to lick his neck?
“I waited for you to rent the movie. I wasn’t sure what you wanted to see. I’ve got iTunes pulled up on the television so you can scan through it and rent what you want.”
I walked toward the kitchen, which led into the living room. “I’m in the mood for an action film,” I said, thinking that I didn’t need to watch anything romantic with him. I had been thinking about licking his neck. I didn’t need to see anything to inspire me.
“Like I said, your pick,” he said as he stepped back into his kitchen.
I stood on the other side of his bar and watched as he fixed us both plates. He’d ordered the same thing as me, which reminded me of the times he took me out to eat that summer. He always said I ordered better than him and ended up eating off my plate and ignoring his own food.
“Wine.” He pushed a glass toward me. “Thanks.”
He picked up the plates and nodded toward the French doors leading out to the balcony. “Want to eat out there? It’s prettier than in here.”
“Yeah. Let me grab your glass, and I’ll get the doors,” I said, reaching for the glass he had poured for himself.
We walked outside onto his balcony, and although the furniture out here was different now, my mind still went back to the first time I’d been out here with him. He set the plates down, and I shoved the memory away as I sat down in the chair closest to me. Remembering how we were then would only confuse things now.
Once Tripp was in his seat, he looked over at me. “Not gonna lie, ordering takeout from Gambino’s brought back some really good memories.” He was doing it, too. Our past would always be there.
“I haven’t had this in . . . well, it’s been a while,” I admitted. Because eating it had always reminded me of him. It wasn’t until Jace had started taking me there that I was able to enjoy it without the memories hurting too much.
Neither of us said anything as we began to eat.
Bringing up Jace wasn’t something I wanted to do. It wasn’t fair to Tripp. We had talked about Jace enough. His memory would always be there. This was about us now.
“What was the most exciting thing that happened today?” Tripp asked, and my eyes shot up to meet his. The flicker in his eyes as he held my gaze caught my breath. So many emotions in those green depths.
Every day that summer, when he had picked me up from work, he would look at me and ask that question. It had started as his way of asking me about my day and turned into my weaving ridiculous tales that never really happened just to make him laugh. In the end, I would reach for his hand and tell him that him waiting for me in the parking lot was the most exciting part of my day.
I held up my forkful of fettuccine. “This is by far the most exciting thing that happened today. Unless you count the fact that I rode up on Mr. Wickingham taking a leak on the tenth hole.”
Tripp winced, then burst out laughing.
Tripp
A sense of warmth wrapped around me, and I inhaled the scent of vanilla deeper. Needing to hold on to it. My arms tightened, and the silky-smooth softness I held in my arms made a noise that reminded me of a purr.
That woke me up. Squinting against the sun’s rays coming in through the windows, I took in the sight of Bethy sound asleep and snuggled up against me. Her legs were tangled with mine, while the rest of her body was half on top of me as I lay on the sofa.
We had watched the movie last night, or at least tried to. Bethy had lain over on me at one point, and I was unable to do anything but watch as her heavy eyelids fluttered closed. While asleep, she had moved closer to me, to the point where I had to lie down so she could stretch out. The rightness of having her in my arms again as she slept gave me a deep sense of contentment.
Preparing myself for the moment she opened her eyes and realized she’d slept on top of me was another thing. She would be angry. At least, I thought she’d be angry. After three glasses of wine on the balcony and laughing at her stories of when Blaire first came to Rosemary Beach, Bethy had relaxed considerably last night.
I just liked hearing her talk, finding out all that I had missed in her life. She told me about moving out of her dad’s house when he married a lady name Renee, who hated Bethy on sight. My chest had ached as I listened to her make jokes about sleeping on the floor and eating noodles for months.
I had eaten my own share of noodles and slept on floors, too, but that was something I never wanted for her. When I rode out of town, I had been determined to build a life somewhere safe, with everything she needed.
I didn’t want her to wake up and be upset about this. I hadn’t slept so well in years, and I sure as hell hadn’t woken up this damn happy in what felt like forever. We hadn’t even kissed last night. I wasn’t pushing her. My eyes had kept fixating on her lips as she talked, but I would mentally shake myself and force my gaze back to her eyes.
One of her legs stretched out, running down over mine as she began to stir. I eased my hold on her when I realized I’d pulled her to me so tightly it was probably what was waking her up. My subconscious was trying to keep her here in this spot. She let out a soft yawn, and the fingers she had sunk into my hair during the night began to move. Then she went completely still, and I knew my Bethy was finally awake. I gave her a moment to assess things. Yes, she was all kinds of tangled up with me, but we were fully clothed, and nothing was touching anything it shouldn’t. When she turned her head and buried her face in my chest, I smiled. Maybe she wasn’t going to jump up in a panic.
“I’m so sorry,” she mumbled against my shirt.